by Jon Mills
“When the coast guard took over, they wanted the keys to the main entrance.”
“You never gave them the keys?”
“We said they were lost.”
“Were they?”
She jangled the keys and then led the way up the stairs.
“There are far too many memories inside of here. If they want to change the locks at some point, fine. But after they kicked up a fuss about us not letting them turn the house into a museum for public tours—”
“You said screw them.”
“Something like that.”
They chuckled, making their way up. The lighthouse was split into four rooms. The first floor was a storeroom with three loopholed windows; the next held a kitchen, sink, fireplace, and a small amount of furniture; the third contained a bedroom with a curved cabin bunk bed custom-made to fit the shape of the room. The final was the lantern room with a small bench. They were unable to go up because it only offered the smallest amount of room.
“Hard to imagine that before the house was built, keepers used to live in here. Everything’s been automated now. They installed a rotating aerodrome beacon back in ’89. I wish they still had the old Fresnel one here; I would have loved to have shown you what my father used to do.”
“They didn’t change it until then?”
“He wouldn’t let them.” She glanced around her. “This is the oldest lighthouse in Maine. It’s what made the place so appealing. My father didn’t trust modern technology. That, and he was as stubborn as a mule. If he was still alive today,” she pointed above, “this wouldn’t be here.”
“It must have been a lot of work.”
“Without a doubt, but he loved it. Four times a night he would come out and wind the drum that made it rotate.”
“Wind by hand, are you serious?”
“Yeah, the lens rotated using a weight, and that was driven by a clockwork mechanism.”
He nodded slowly.
“I’m boring you. Sorry, a force of habit, I guess. So used to being around motel visitors who wanted to visit the lighthouse.”
“You should be a tour guide.”
She grimaced, and turned to leave.
“Guessing you don’t have the same love for it as your father?”
“The place, yes,” she hummed. “The work? No.”
For a moment they basked in the silence. He noticed Dana stealing a glance at him from time to time. Beyond the small window they watched the light illuminate the treacherous waters and worn shoreline. Waves danced violently as a strong wind stirred up the ocean surface and battered the rocks. How many lives had been saved from the raging sea because of that light? How many more would? He snuck a glance at her sun kissed face. Shadows highlighted her features.
Despite his attraction, he had been trying all evening to resist the urge to reach for her. Was she waiting for him to make a move? He regretted feeling the need to pull away from her earlier in the evening, but it was for her own good. In as much as they had connected over the past week, Jack only had to think of his sister and why he was here to snap out of the fantasy. He couldn’t allow himself to get close.
And yet, it was happening. There was a quiet magnetism between them, clearly evident by their body language and the way they continually locked eyes.
They retraced their steps and retreated to the house. The rain had begun to fall again, coming down even harder than earlier. The warm summer air had vanished in the blink of an eye only to be replaced by a sharp coastal wind that cut through them. It was almost a fight to close the door behind them. Water pooled around their shoes. In only a short distance the rain had drenched their clothes, leaving them chilled to the bone.
“Holy crap, where did summer go?” He shook out his hair.
“I told you it changes fast. I’ll go grab some towels. I might even have one of Matt’s old shirts.”
“The towels are fine,” he said.
The last thing he wanted was to make her feel awkward for the rest of the evening. Besides, wearing the shirt of the man he had attempted to kill? That wasn’t happening.
Dana kicked off her flip-flops and padded cautiously away to avoid slipping. As she did, Jack noticed the way her dress clung to her curvy body, revealing her shapely ass, bra, and panties. She looked almost too good. He cursed Gafino’s name under his breath and second-guessed his split second decision to pull away from her. A good woman was his weakness. Add to that someone who had shown him nothing but kindness since his arrival, and his ability to keep a level head was starting to crack. Then, of course, there was being holed up in a pen for the past four years with testosterone-fueled lunatics, sharing a cell with a guy who plastered the walls with pin-ups. That had only made his craving for the company of a woman once he got out that much stronger.
After all, he was only human. After their kiss, it was even harder to show restraint. It was brutal. He gave himself a mental shake, pushing the thought of seeing her naked from his mind. But as she returned, still dripping wet and carrying two soft white towels, the voice of reason became faint.
She handed him one. “Looks like we might be here for the night.”
“The breakwater covers that quickly?” he said before wiping his face.
“It’s not high. It’s a little dangerous to try and head back, but we can if—”
“It’s just one night, right?” he said, cutting her off.
She leaned her head to one side to dry her hair. “Yeah.” She paused. “I just didn’t want to make you feel any more uncomfortable than what I already have.”
“You haven’t.”
Her eyes burned into his at his reply. The attraction between them was tangible. It was as if the very air itself had been statically charged, and Jack closed the distance between them. The sensible voice, the one that had told him to not get involved, was barely audible now.
Stepping into her space, she shifted from one foot to the next cautiously, before slowly lifting a hand, as if trying to gauge his intention or determine if she would just be rebuffed again. Finding him unflinching to her touch, she slid her hand around his neck to pull him in for a kiss. Without hesitation, his arm pulled at the small of her back, his mouth came down hard on hers with a fierce, hot kiss.
After a beat, they pulled a part.
“I was hoping you would do that,” she said.
Lifting her off her feet, she wrapped her legs around him tightly. Cradling her in one strong arm while grasping at her hair with the other, his lips traced down her neck, licking and biting. Her skin was wet, cool to the touch, and tasted of summer rain. Stumbling back, he slammed into the wall before turning and supporting her weight against it. His hand slid up her skirt and around her ass. Her nails dug into the muscles of his back as though she was trying to rip his shirt apart. Hungry for each other and caught up in the moment, they didn’t even register the frequent claps of thunder outside. Like unlocking a wild animal from inside its cage, their desire and primal instincts took over. Collapsing to the floor, they tore at each other’s clothes. She tugged at his belt; he pulled at her panties until they were off. Their pulses raced faster.
She gasped into his mouth as their tongues encircled. Trembling and shivering in each other’s arms, not even their excitement could warm them, still chilled by their soaked clothes.
He pulled back, breathing hard. “Shower. Where?”
Knowing what he had in mind, she gestured in the direction of a room further down the hall. He took her by the hand and led her down. Within a few minutes, steam filled every crevice of the large room, condensation fogging up the glass surrounding the shower. A trail of soggy clothes lay scattered and the blur of two bodies entwined reflected back in the mirror.
Even after they were done making love, a thin outline of a handprint remained against the glass; the fading evidence of wild, reckless, unruly passion.
Part III
Chapter 23
LATER THAT EVENING, moonlight spilled into the bedroom through
the skylight. The bedsheets shimmered as rain and silver light danced together on the pane of glass far above them. Dana rested her head on Jack’s chest. Besides the sound of his heartbeat, the outside weather that had eventually settled down and the house was silent.
“What about your parents?”
“They died when I was eighteen.
“So what happened?”
“I don’t know the full details. A freak storm is what the coast guard called it. I was on the mainland at the time. Despite the lighthouse operating, they believe their boat smashed up against the rocks as they tried to steer it in.” She paused as she reflected on the tragedy. “Ironic, isn’t it? They had given their lives to protect others on this very ocean, only to end up suffering a fate that they had prevented so many others from having.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” She stroked the tips of her fingers across his body, exploring the ridges of his abs. “Some things, I guess, are just out of our control.” She breathed in deeply as he caressed her arm.
“You miss them, don’t you?”
“They…” She paused, contemplating what to say next before nodding slowly. “Yeah.”
She lifted her head. “I still find it hard to comprehend the way your father and stepmother treated you,” she said.
“He’d say it was the alcohol, but it was her. She egged him on.”
“And what of your real mother?”
“Died in childbirth. At least, that’s what I was told.” He shook his head.
“You don’t believe that?”
“It doesn’t matter now; he got was coming to him.”
“What do you mean?
He met her gaze. “Ah, less about me.”
She noticed the way he shifted the topic.
“You weren’t speaking figuratively, were you?” he said, running his fingers across several scars she had on her chest and ribs. “How many times?”
“Four, five. Matt wasn’t always like that. In fact, you would have probably liked him in the early days. That is, when we first met.”
“So why?”
“It was either Jason or me. I still, to this day, don’t know what brought it on. But I know when it started. He used to do these trips into the city. Every time he came back, it was like living with a stranger. His nerves were on edge. He acted paranoid. He drank like a fish and, well, he denied it, but I found drug paraphernalia in his bag.”
“Did you ever tell anyone?”
“I didn’t need to. It’s hard to keep secrets in this town, Jack. Gossip spreads like weeds if you don’t collect your mail, or drop your kids off at school on a regular schedule. They call it the perks and woes of living in a small town.”
When she dropped her chin, she felt his fingers lovingly trace her cheek. Her eyes lifted. A sympathetic half smile flashed on his lips before he gazed up at the skylight above them. She took his hand and kissed it. For the first time in years, she felt safe. There was no further exchange of words that evening. They both had shared an experience that no other human should ever go through. Secrets had scarred them physically and emotionally. His pain was hers, and likewise. Yet now that burden, and the guilt that she had carried for so long, no longer felt as heavy. His reaction wasn’t full of self-righteous judgment, the kind that some folk in the town had been quick to dispense.
Why hadn’t she reported it?
Why hadn’t she left him?
She brought it upon herself, some said.
In Jack’s arms, far from the past, the responsibilities of her daily life, and guilt, she was free. If only for that evening.
There was no telling when they fell asleep, only that when Jack awoke the sun was blazing. A deep orange light burned its way into the room, setting everything alight. They had slept in. The clock’s red digits flashed almost ten. He cast a glance to Dana, who was still asleep beside him. Her figure intertwined with the white sheet that partly covered her naked body.
He watched her chest rise and fall for a while. Dry, and in the light of the morning, she was every bit as beautiful as the previous night. He knew he should have regretted his actions, notched it up to one too many drinks, but he didn’t. He laid his arm across her and kissed her shoulder. She stirred a little, but didn’t wake. Rising from the bed unclothed, he threw a towel around his waist and padded out. His head was throbbing from the alcohol. Shaking the fog from his mind, he searched the cupboards for coffee.
“Morning,” a voice croaked.
He turned to find her wearing nothing more than a long blue jean shirt. It had to have been Matt’s; her had frame disappeared beneath it.
“Hey, I was just about to put a pot of coffee on. But I can’t seem—”
She came up behind him, wrapping both arms around his waist and resting her head on his back.
“Second drawer on the right,” she said before yawning.
Sure enough, that’s where they were. He could have sworn he’d checked that drawer.
“Thanks.” He turned into her, kissed her on the mouth gently, his mouth moving over hers every so softly. Again he felt himself aroused by her touch, a pleasant reminder of an evening of passion. Behind them an intermittent buzzing sound made Dana pull away.
He couldn’t resist watching her walk over to the table. She had a natural yet almost sultry sway to her hips and ass. The kind a man could get used to. As he lit the stove, Dana fished around inside her handbag for her phone. Just as he added a few scoops of coffee into the French press coffee pot, Dana let out of a gasp.
“You’re serious?”
He turned to find her face a picture of horror.
“I’ll be right there.”
“What’s going on?”
“Jason’s been arrested.”
Chapter 24
DANA DROVE IN SILENCE, oblivious to the flurry of weekend traffic. Sunday afternoons were usually quiet in most towns. Rockland Cove wasn’t like most towns. Vacationers clogged up the two lanes that weaved past stores. SUVs, motorcycles, and family minivans towing boats crawled forward bumper to bumper, some heading away from the marina, others returning to spend the day on the water. Jason sat in silence in the back while Jack rode shotgun. After several hours of waiting around to be seen while officers dealt with some pressing matter down at the harbor, Frank had finally brought them up to speed on what had happened.
It was early afternoon by the time they got out. Jason had been released on a conditional discharge with a court arraignment in a week.
Since leaving the police station, Dana hadn’t said a word. It was her initial attempt at controlling the anger fuming beneath the surface, and partly not wishing to suffer any further embarrassment.
Shelly Evans, the mother of Jason’s friend Luke, had already collected her son by the time they arrived. This was probably for the best, being as Dana assumed Luke was behind the whole incident and was prepared for a yelling match. Trouble seemed to follow that kid wherever he went; two suspensions from school in the past year alone, a marijuana possession charge that was dropped because he was a minor, and several incidents of destruction of property formed the basis of her quick judgment. If there was anyone who probably got a thrill out of fighting, it was him, she thought.
Surprisingly, though, that wasn’t the case. No, according to Frank—who thankfully had been on patrol that night—Jason was adamant that Luke had tried to intervene. She was shocked, to say the least. Luke coming to his defense? An obvious cover story for his friend, but she’d know for sure soon. The police were going to gather a surveillance recording from Harley’s, a local beer and liquor store whose cameras may have picked up the incident outside between Kyle and Jason. Frank had made it clear that regardless of whether or not Kyle was the instigator, he couldn’t prevent his family from pressing charges, but he would give it his best effort to talk to them.
Brawls in Rockland Cove were a common occurrence. She wasn’t sure if it was boredom, stupidity, or a combination of both. Either way, Frank had
always made a point to keep most disputes between locals outside of the court system. Those he couldn’t were usually handled pretty fast and severely. The very mention of court had her nerves on edge. He’d reassured Dana that he would put in a good word with Judge Mahoney, since it was Jason’s first time being in trouble with the law. According to him, unless it was serious offense, minors were usually given a harsh warning, forced to apologize to the victim, performed a large number of hours of community service, and ordered to stay away from each other.
However that hadn’t lessened her disappointment, anger, and utter disbelief over what he’d done. He’d put a kid in hospital, for God sake.
What had gotten into him?
She glanced in the rearview mirror for the thirteenth time, as if by some miracle she’d wake up from this nightmare and still find herself lying beside Jack.
“Aren’t you going to say something?” Jason asked.
She flashed another look of disapproval, tapping a steady rhythm against the steering wheel while the truck jerked slowly forward behind the stream of traffic.
“What do you suggest, Jason?”
“I don’t know? Chew me out. Do what you normally do. Ground me.”
“Ground you? You put a kid in hospital, Jason.”
“I didn’t start it. Kyle and his goons kicked off.”
“Oh, so that gave you the right to finish it?”
“He’s been on my case nonstop for the past year. What do you expect me to do, Mum? Keep taking a pounding every time?”
“No but—”
“There are no buts with Kyle, Mum. You are either a friend or a punching bag.”
“Jason, his parents could press charges—never mind, send us the bill for his time in hospital. We can’t afford that.”
He scoffed. “They can.”
“That’s not the point.”
“Mum, I barely scratched the guy.”